On this Thanksgiving Monday, while I could thank Mother Nature for her gifts and generosity, I would rather mention those without whom our family enterprise would flounder, our four seasonal employees, Mexicans all, who form the backbone of this farm. That’s not to say that we don’t have other employees. At the season’s peak, we number roughly 10 hard-working humans in the fields, doing our organic farming thing – i.e., planting, harvesting, weeding, irrigating and ultimately, packing your baskets. But if I draw your attention to our seasonal workers – Jhenrri, Crescencio, Carmelino and Gregorio – it’s because they are my closest collaborators in the fields, a reality that has earned them a status that differs from that of the others who join us mid-season, for two or maybe three months, often as coop agronomy students or simply as summer job-seekers. In contrast, our Mexican workers arrive in early spring and depart in late fall, like the migratory birds who follow a similar flight path between the Canadian Great North and warmer climes along the Eastern American seaboard and even further south. I raise my hat to all four of them, to their kindness, their courage and their hard work. Tomorrow morning, at dawn, the first to depart will be returning to his family after a six-month absence. Indeed, I cannot thank them enough.
Fall has arrived suddenly at the farm, like an unexpected guest. In just the past few days, we’ve had to switch from shorts to pants and from comfortable shoes to heavy boots. Don’t mistake me, the grass is still green, thanks to abundant morning dews and nocturnal rains, but our fields are no longer as luxuriant as they once were, the cooler temperatures having affected each and all of their inhabitants, without exception. Well, almost all : there are some leafy greens who relish the cold, which draws out the sweetness hidden within. We’ll be serving them up in succession over coming weeks. The cooler temperatures also signal that it’s time to move seriously into field clean-up mode, patch by patch, sowing green manure as we go. Next week will see us begin to dismantle our low tunnels, yet another Herculean farm task.
In your baskets, then, roots and leafy greens, the freshly harvested rutabaga, or swede, and the shapely butternut, the squash lover’s ultimate favourite, particularly well-know in North America, and super-sweet to boot.
I know I’ve been talking about if for a while now, but it was only this past weekend that we truly finished harvesting our winter squash, under the blazing sun. To be more precise, more than a week ago we had cut the squash off their vines and left them in the field to cure a bit, waiting for the right moment to actually bring them in from the field, into the empty bins waiting to receive them in the cool shade of the barn. But with the infinite (or so it seems) list of things to do on the farm, we woke up Friday morning with a sudden sense of urgency, realizing that while it’s okay to let a butternut cure for a few days, it’s not okay to let it roast in 35-degree heat. And so we rallied the troops, and some 10 tractor-loads later, the stress level abated…Although I must admit that as I contemplated the once luxuriant squash patch, I realized how messy a crop winter squash can be…a battlefield, I thought, observing the weeds competing with the trailing vines, rotten squash here and there having succumbed to some disease or another, squished squash (sic) having fallen under the wheels of our Farmall. A veritable carnage, I tell you, albeit quickly forgotten as the next chore beckoned, and a distant memory once we sow the green manure and make amends…
Meanwhile, your basket is a Fall one, with Kuri squash, carrots and arugula – my favourite leafy green, which will soon dethrone the tomato in my vegetable kingdom.
Even as the forecast is calling for yet another summery weekend, this week’s basket reminds us that fall is looming. Beyond last Saturday’s first frost, it is the general state of our solanaceas and cucurbits that is the true harbinger of fall — plants that have given so much during the peak season have started to falter, readying themselves for an imminent shutdown. In any event, we’ve completed our harvest of winter squash, and I am pleased to report that Mother Nature has been most generous. Butternut squash, acorn squash, delicata squash, buttercup squash, sweet dumplings and sundry pumpkins will all grace your basket in due course over the coming weeks. For the Brussels sprouts aficionados amongst you, know that we have just clipped the tops of the plants to redirect their energies downwards again, towards the budding sprouts. Another bountiful harvest in the making. We’ve held off on the celeriac for now, fragrant but still too small. A bit of rain and another week should see them come to maturity. All that said, summer still lingers, and with it tomatoes and cucumbers…although our squash and eggplants are bowing out. There is still time to order your Italian paste tomatoes – and next week will see us start to fulfill your conservation garlic orders.
As I write these lines, the much anticipated winter squash harvest, heralded last week, has yet to be done. A build-up in farm chores, each more pressing than the next over the past few days, has been such that we have decided to harvest them one at a time, starting with this week’s special, our spaghetti squash. The others will follow in due course…and truth be told, there’s no particular rush, yet. This week’s basket bridges from summer into fall, with potatoes and onions on the fall side, and other items reminders that summer is still with us. Some of you will be relieved to hear of a notable decrease in the productivity of our summer squash and our eggplant. Say what you will, you cannot complain of a lack of them…but all good things come to an end, and the cooler nights of the past week have finally slowed our solanaceas down, not to mention the presence of the tarnished plant bug (TPB), who is particularly fond of delicate mauve and yellow eggplant flowers. While these vegetables have not yet come to an end, they will be served up less frequently until their inevitable demise. The question of the timing of the inevitable demise of our tomatoes has likewise begun to haunt us – as the slightest inflection in a hitherto bountiful yield causes existential angst, a fear of what will no longer be, our very own Paradise Lost…So like the ant of La Fontaine’s fable, we will gather them up fresh in copious quantities now, knowing that we will have to make due with their by-products when winter winds come.
High season at the farm continues, unabated. A sticky heat, with a humidex reading through the roof, makes these late August days bear an uncanny resemblance to the dog days* of July. Before writing these lines, I tour the fields to take in the sounds and smells of the late afternoon and surprise, surprise – there are signs of an early, and bountiful, winter squash harvest. Just a few days ago, our squash plants seemed to be full of vim and vigour, bright green and ready to weather the month of September. All it took was a rainshower or two to make them collectively decide that the time had come to call it a day and let their farmer reap the fruits of his labour. I will keep you posted, but plans are in the making for a weekend of squash picking, an enjoyable task, believe it or not – a symphony for the senses, a mix of colours and textures, shapes and sizes. In short, a pleasant way to spend a day, or two, in the fields.
In this week’s basket, we give you a glimpse of the fall that is yet to come with our first real harvest of summer leeks, with their white stems turning to green, light and delicious. And to make amends for our blueberry shortcomings, we offer up a third serving of watermelons, sans seeds, courtesy of our friend Gabriel Samson et Fils, our trusted supplier of the best organic potatoes in Quebec. I do not grow the seedless variety myself, given a nostalgic preference for the old-fashioned one with seeds, no doubt nourished by memories of seed-spitting competitions with my brothers, and the effort made to crunch nary a seed as we wolfed down slice after seed-filled slice of our favourite fruit…back in the day when life’s simple pleasures made us happy.
*To the Greeks and Romans, near the time when Sirius appeared to rise just before the sun, i.e. in late July
We’ve reached the peak of the season, a time when we begin to anticipate the ebb which will inevitably follow the flow — and quite frankly, this year’s succession of hot, steamy days is bordering on the obscene. This week will be yet another dry one, with little to no precipitation in sight. That said, we won’t exaggerate — already the cooler nights of August are bringing wisps of fog at sundown, and heavy dew at dawn. These contrasts are creating confusion in our plant kingdom as some crops don’t know whether they are coming or going. Indeed, by farmer’s almanach standards, we could well be a mere four weeks away from the first frosts of autumn. But we anticipate too much, we should let nature follow its course, however erratic said course may seem at times. And we’ll cheat a bit, harvesting our onions even as they stand ramrod straight — usually, they begin to topple over as the days shorten — and we’ll soon do the same with our winter squash, despite their showing no signs of slowing down, seemingly blissfully unaware of their imminent demise.
This week’s basket will be bountiful, we hope you appreciate its festive nature. We look forward to seeing you all again.
Summer continues in full swing for this, our 10th week, and basket, of the season. It’s been in full swing for a while, now – 2018 will definitely be a season to remember – with alternating bouts of drought, gang-buster growth, goings-to-seed and weeds galore – the latter the only true constant in a crazy summer to date. But as I like to say, I’d take 10 seasons like this year’s in exchange for a single rainy one anytime. And the season is nowhere near finished, what with hot nights and days still pushing the high 20s and occasionally still topping 30. That said, here is a small sign of the fall-that-is yet-to-come: today I started sowing some of the root vegetables for your late-season baskets – turnips and radishes of all types, and in the main greenhouse we’ve started sowing our Asian greens – mustards, rapinis and the like. Fall vegetables don’t like the summer heat, so we’ll pray for a reasonable autumn. Meanwhile, we closed out the day harvesting good old-fashioned (i.e. with seeds) watermelons…
Several of you noted the bitterness of our yellow cucumbers, for which we are truly sorry. The explanation is simple: they are a variety that definitely does NOT do well in drier conditions. We mistakenly thought it was only the skin that would suffer, but some of them were bitter to the core. A few rainy days have made all the difference for our latest crop, but we will have learned our lesson: next year, we will be sure to irrigate them well (in summers past, none of our cucurbits ever required extra water). We look forward to seeing you all.
PS: no lettuces this week, they’ve all gone to seed…
The week began under the auspices of rural solidarity, i.e. when the only people you can rely upon are your neighbours, farmers for the most part, who are more than willing to lend a helping hand if/when the situation requires one. Our particular predicament arose as some of us were intent on revving up our largest tractor for a series of pressing field chores while others were focused on basket prep in the warehouse. The motor started but nothing else was working, especially the hydraulic arms without which a tractor is, for all intents and purposes, useless. All it took was a single, rather frantic, call for a good Samaritan to materialize, dropping everything to tend to our tractor woes, spending an entire morning changing engine and hydraulic oils to get the beast working again. I can’t even begin to count the number of times that André, Jimmy, Claude, François, Jean-Paul and others I may be forgetting here have gotten me out of one bind or another, always with a smile and a sense of humour. They are all quite remarkable, and they know how grateful I am – but their kindness bears mentioning from time to time.
And so it goes: this week’s basket is another summer one. We are on the verge of a tomato tsunami. For one last week, you will have to make do with our Glacier saladettes in your baskets, as they are the first to ripen, but from next week onwards, we’ll be overrun – as our paste tomatoes continue to ripen, and our Cherokees turn a darker hue of purple, daily. We look forward to seeing you all again.
Following a week marked by the harsh reality of farming – for those of you who thought plagues, drought and pestilence were only biblical – there is great solace to be found in this week’s bountiful harvests, namely a bumper crop of garlic which we have been harvesting over the past 10 days, and a haul of carrots which we completed this morning. The weather dial is still set at VERY HOT – under a beating sun that leaves everyone feeling parched. The summer of 2018 will go down in history as one to remember. Fortunately, a 15-foot deep surface well dug two years ago on a bit of a whim to water a small surrounding area is coming in very handy indeed. A not-so-justifiable investment at the time, in hindsight it seems to have been something short of a stroke of genius. It is worth noting that if a vegetable farmer’s day were nothing but planting and harvesting, life on an organic farm would be easy; but July and most of August are taken up by weeding, a demanding activity by any measure, and one that, we admit, we occasionally fail to duly accomplish, not through any ill-will per se, but rather through lack of time, energy, or both.
The time is fast approaching for us to take orders for canning tomatoes and conservation garlic. Returning members are familiar with the routine, but for those of you new to the farm, we hereby inform you that if you are interested in purchasing larger quantities of paste tomatoes for freezing or canning, or garlic that will keep all winter, we will be offering both online shortly. Meanwhile, check out the contents of this week’s basket here – and we look forward to seeing you all again soon.